


Melissa, Becoming

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: 1960s [9]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/F, mild sexual content ( discussion)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: Melissa goes through the process of coming out and what follows, through discussions with her sister.
Relationships: Monica Reyes/Melissa Scully
Series: 1960s [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/865632
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Melissa, Becoming

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my 1960s AU--it begins after "I Can't Go Back There Anymore" and continues past the other installments.
> 
> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

Melissa tried not to think about it for a long time (much too long, she decided later, once she was thinking about it again). But it was hard and it hurt too much. It had all happened, somehow, without her being ready for it. That wasn’t usually something she minded: Dana liked to plan, and Melissa liked to jump into things feet first, if they felt right. It had felt right, with Dee, that night. Since then it had felt wrong. When she thought about it. Which she tried not to.

Starchild was the only other person who knew what had happened (except Dee, of course, and sometimes Melissa wondered if she wasn’t thinking about it too), and Starchild was kind. She didn’t bring it up, but Melissa didn’t want her to, so that was fine. But she’d be home more often in the evenings, or she’d talk Melissa into coming to parties with her, and they’d talk and laugh and smoke, and it wouldn’t be so hard, just to think about the moment and not about anything else. Except for sometimes, when they were in their apartment and it felt too much like old times, like the days when the three of them had been living together.

She’d never thought about Dee that way, before that night. Or had she, unconsciously? Maybe she’d been hiding from herself, because it was scary. It was still scary, when she thought about it now, and maybe that was another reason she didn’t want to think about it. That wasn’t who she was, though: someone who got scared and hid. But she didn’t feel much like herself, right now.

And she wasn’t acting much like herself either, apparently. She was in the kitchen getting a drink one night, when they’d invited some people over for Starchild’s birthday, and when she turned around Dana was there. “Hi,” Dana said, giving her a smile. “I just wanted to ask…are you feeling okay? You’ve been really quiet, tonight.”

She knew Dana wanted to help; she might have talked to her, under other circumstances. But there was no way she could talk to Dana about Dee, even if she could talk to her about the rest of it, and she wasn’t sure she could do that either. So she just made herself smile back. “I’m great,” she said. “Just a little bit tired. I had a long day at the restaurant.”

“Are you sure?” Dana asked.

“Of course I’m sure,” Melissa said. She wasn’t sure Dana believed her, still, because she reached out and hugged her for a long time. Melissa hugged her back. She let herself take that comfort. And she promised herself she would get a grip. She wouldn’t let this make her someone different. She wouldn’t let it change the way she acted. She wouldn’t keep thinking about what had happened with Dee.

But even as she promised herself, she knew that that wouldn’t work, not completely. That she couldn’t hide forever, not from herself anyway. She might be able to hide from other people—it would be safer, less scary—but she didn’t think that was the person she wanted to be. She couldn’t be a different person right now, though. She wasn’t ready for that.

“How are you doing?” Dana asked. She’d stopped by Melissa’s apartment, now that she was back from Christmas vacation. “What have you been up to?”

“I’m good,” Melissa said. “I haven’t been up to anything special. Just hanging around with people.” The people in question were the lesbian feminist group she’d joined, but she didn’t elaborate. “How about you?”

“Nothing special either,” Dana said. “I’ve been getting ready for classes. And I spent most of the day with Mulder yesterday. We had lunch with Mom and Dad before they went home.”

“Dad approves of him now?” Melissa asked.

“You know, I think he does,” Dana said. “Not that it would change things for me if he didn’t. But I’m glad.”

She was a little jealous—that Dana was seeing someone whom it was possible to get their dad to approve of, even if it might have been an uphill climb—but it couldn’t really damage her mood. She had people now, people like her. She wasn’t hiding from everyone anymore. She was discovering herself again.

“Are you feeling better, Missy?” Dana asked suddenly.

“Feeling better?” Melissa asked. “What do you mean?”

“I was kind of worried about you,” Dana said, “earlier this year. You just seemed…well, kind of sad. But you seem better now.” She smiled. “You don’t have to tell me what it was about. If there was anything. I’m just glad if you’re doing better.”

Melissa hadn’t expected Dana to pick up on it, but she shouldn’t have been surprised, really. It made her glad, even if she wasn’t ready to explain things to Dana yet. “I am,” she said. “Thanks for checking, Dana.”

“Okay,” Dana said, “just so you know, this question’s coming from Mom, not from me.”

Melissa raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like I should be worried.” They were sitting on the couch in Melissa’s apartment; Dana had come up for a few days, so they could get the last work done on the bridesmaid dresses (which were the stodgiest things Melissa had ever seen, but it was Dana’s day).

Dana laughed. “No, it’s nothing that bad. It’s just that you’ve heard it before. I told her I was pretty sure you wouldn’t, but she said she just wanted to be sure. Do you want to bring a date to the wedding?”

She’d tried to breeze past the question, when her mother had asked it before, just smiling and saying no, there wasn’t anyone. She knew her mother wanted to see her with someone, especially now that Bill was married and Dana almost was, but she didn’t think she’d like it if she were faced with the truth. And Melissa and Andrea weren’t exactly a couple, anyway. They’d slept together, Andrea taking Melissa under her wing in that realm, but they were more friends than anything; they weren’t in love, and neither of them expected that from the other. She probably wouldn’t have brought Andrea as a wedding date even if she could.

So there wasn’t anything she needed to say, really: she could just tell Dana no, again, and they could go on to talk about other things. There was no reason for her to say anything more, no reason to explain. And yet somehow in the moment she got caught up in her thoughts, in how far away any answer she could give would be from what they thought they were asking. “Dana, I’m a lesbian.”

It was out now, her first time telling someone she already knew. (She didn’t count Starchild, because she’d found out on her own, or the women she’d met at meetings, because they were all in the same boat.) She hadn’t planned it this way, hadn’t planned it at all, yet. She could feel her heart racing as she stared at Dana, and Dana stared back.

“What?” Dana said, after a moment.

She had to keep going now. “I’m a lesbian,” Melissa said. She tried to figure out what Dana was thinking from her face, her voice. She wasn’t giving her much.

“Since…since when?” Dana said.

“Since forever, I guess,” Melissa said. “I…well, I’ve been figuring things out in the past couple of years. But this has always been me.”

“Are you…are you saying you want to bring a woman?” Dana asked. “To the wedding?” Melissa could read her a little better now: definite shock. She couldn’t tell more than that, though. Couldn’t really concentrate, when her own heart was still racing. When all she could think about was hoping her little sister didn’t hate her. Maybe she would even take up praying again, if praying would help here.

“No,” Melissa said. “I don’t…I’m not really with anyone, and anyway I wouldn’t do that now. I’m not ready for everyone to know. I didn’t even think I was going to tell you yet. It just…it happened.”

Dana nodded. “How did you…why did you…” she began, and then she stopped. Melissa wasn’t sure what the question was, so she waited, still scanning Dana’s face. “I mean, I wouldn’t have thought…you don’t act…”

“There’s not one way we all act, you know,” Melissa said. “I belong to a group, and there’s all kinds of women there. They don’t make you wear a uniform.”

“I know,” Dana said. “I’m being stupid. I’m just…I’m really surprised.” She was quiet again. “I don’t know what to say.”

That one hurt. Maybe it shouldn’t have; it wasn’t hateful, like some responses she’d imagined, or things her friends had talked about in the group, or words she’d heard hurled during marches. But it was Dana, her sister, who she’d always felt safe with, so it did.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “I know it’s…I know it’s big.”

Dana nodded. “Mom and Dad would…”

“Yeah, I’ve considered that,” Melissa said. “They’re not going to know, for a while anyway. Keep it to yourself.” Maybe she sounded too harsh. She needed to know Dana would do this for her, at least. “Please.”

“I will,” Dana said. More quiet. “I…it’s almost four. I’m supposed to meet Mulder. Is it all right if I…?”

She didn’t sound like it was just to meet Mulder. She sounded like she wanted to be anywhere but in this conversation. But at the moment, Melissa did too. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, it’s all right. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” Dana said, “I’ll see you soon, Missy.” Melissa didn’t move to hug her, like they usually did, because she didn’t want to, right now. Not that it didn’t hurt, when Dana didn’t either. “Bye.”

She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter (not true), that it could have been worse (true, but not helpful), that it wouldn’t be like this forever (maybe true, but she had no way of knowing). It was made worse by being alone in the apartment—Melissa would have liked to talk to Starchild, but she was out somewhere, probably at the guys’. She tried playing music as loudly as she could, so that she could pretend someone else was there. Only happy music. And she tried to dance, but she gave it up after a while. Usually she loved to dance, even alone, but right now it felt like there wasn’t any point to it.

So she just made dinner, eventually, and ate it alone. She thought about calling Andrea, seeing if she’d come over, but then she’d have to explain, and she didn’t want to yet. She thought about just going to bed early.

She heard someone knocking at the door.

Melissa wasn’t expecting anyone, but maybe it was someone for Starchild or Shannon. She got up and opened it.

She certainly hadn’t expected Dana, but Dana was there, looking nervous. “Hey, what’re you—?” Melissa began, but Dana cut her off then, throwing her arms around her.

“I love you,” she said. “Earlier, I just…I was surprised and I acted like a jerk, but—but I love you, okay, Missy? You’re my sister and I love you. And I wouldn’t ever want you to think I don’t.”

She hadn’t realized just how tense she felt, until now, when she didn’t anymore. She hugged Dana back. “Thanks,” she said. “Do you want to come in for a little bit?” Dana nodded, and they walked in and settled onto the couch again.

“I just kept thinking about it,” Dana said. “How I acted, I mean. And I…I had to come and make sure you didn’t think I…”

“Hated me?” Melissa asked.

“I wasn’t that awful,” Dana said, “was I?”

Melissa shook her head. “I didn’t know what you thought, really. I was scared.”

“I’m sorry,” Dana said. “Really. You were brave, Missy. To tell me. And I’m sorry if I hurt you. And I meant what I said—I won’t tell Mom or Dad or anyone.”

Melissa nodded. “I’ll tell them someday,” she said, “but not yet.”

“How did you know?” Dana asked. “That…um…that you were a lesbian.” Her voice was a little loud, but determined, and it almost made Melissa smile.

“It was kind of complicated,” she said. “But…long story short…there was this girl I liked. And she didn’t feel the same way, in the end, but…well, I realized then.” The story was private, still. Maybe she would tell Dana later.

“Sounds like she had no taste,” Dana said, and Melissa laughed, in spite of herself. “And you never…with guys…?”

“I tried,” Melissa said. “It was never right.”

“And this is?” Dana asked. “Right, I mean. For you.”

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “Dana, it is. I’m just so…well, it’s still scary sometimes, when I think about telling everyone…but most of the time, I’m so happy. The women I’ve met in my group—I feel like I belong with them.”

Dana smiled. “I think I know what you mean. That’s great, Missy.” She hugged Melissa again, as if still trying to make up for earlier. “You don’t have a girlfriend, right? That’s what you said before?”

“Not really,” Melissa. “There’s one woman…Andrea…we’re good friends, and we’ve been together, but we’re not exactly a couple.”

“Andrea,” Dana said, seriously, and that did make Melissa smile, seeing that Dana wanted to know her life, to understand.

“I really didn’t mean to tell you today,” she said. “But, well, I’m glad I did. Now.”

“I’m glad you did too,” Dana said.

“It kind of slipped out,” Melissa said. “I was just thinking about what Mom would think. Her idea of a wedding date and mine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think she’d…well…”

“It’s okay if you say it, Dana,” Melissa said. “I know she’s not going to be on board with this. And that’s…it’s not great. But it’s not going to change me.”

“I’m sorry, though,” Dana said. “But if you want…you can always come to our place, when we move in. With Andrea, I mean. I’m sure Mulder would…I mean, I won’t tell even him, of course, until you want me to…but I’m sure he would be fine with it.”

There were so many people she’d have to think about telling, Melissa realized. Well, that was how life was. For now, she had Dana, anyway, and that felt like a good step.

“Missy!” She could hear Dana’s voice behind her. She’d already gone almost six blocks; she wondered when Dana had started, how fast she’d been running. She wondered if she should turn around or keep going. “Missy,” Dana said again, and she came up and put her hand on Melissa’s shoulder, which made the idea of not turning around seem pretty foolish.

“What?” she said, turning. “What do you want?” She wondered if Dana was angry—if she wanted Melissa to apologize for dropping a bomb into their family gathering and then leaving her to deal with the fallout. Well, if she did, screw that. Melissa wasn’t going to apologize. This wasn’t her fault.

“What do you mean, what do I want?” Dana asked. “I just came to see if you were okay.”

“Do you think I’m okay?” She knew she sounded furious, and she knew this wasn’t Dana’s fault either, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

“No,” Dana said. “No, of course I know you’re not, Missy. I’m sorry. I just…where are you going? Aren’t your things—?”

“You can get them for me, okay?” Melissa said. “I’m going to see if there’s another bus tonight. And if not, I’ll stay at the motel until the morning.”

“It’s not very nice there,” Dana said.

“I don’t care.”

“Can I walk with you?” Dana asked. “Or do you want me to leave you alone? I can, if you want. But you shouldn’t have to be.”

She shouldn’t be angry at Dana, Melissa knew; she hadn’t done anything. And it was hard to be angry, with the way she was acting. Melissa almost wished she would do something. Give her an excuse to let out her anger. But she couldn’t. “Sure,” she said. “You can walk with me.”

There was another bus back to New York, at eight-thirty. It would get her there in the middle of the night, sure, but that was better than staying here. “Will you be safe?” Dana asked. “Going back to the apartment by yourself that late?” She sounded like their mom, back in the days when her questions had been simple, harmless, only expressions of love. Melissa wanted to cry.

“I can get a cab, probably,” Melissa said. “Or I could call someone and get them to meet me there. Sheila. Or Starchild.”

“Call Sheila,” Dana said. “I trust her to show up more.”

“Starchild’s a really good friend to me, actually,” Melissa said. “You don’t have to act like she’s just some flake.”

“I know she is,” Dana said. “But you just never know when she’s going to—”

“I’m calling Starchild,” Melissa said, decisively, and she walked off to the payphone. It felt good to defy someone, even just that much. Besides, she didn’t want to talk to Sheila just yet. She knew Sheila wouldn’t hold back—that she’d have plenty of rage directed at Melissa’s parents, and that she wouldn’t be shy about telling her. Melissa wasn’t sure why she didn’t want that. But she didn’t, yet, from someone else.

Starchild was there, anyway. Melissa didn’t tell her much, and she didn’t ask a lot of questions, and she’d meet Melissa when she got in. “The guys are all here,” she said. “Should I bring them? We could be like a welcoming committee.”

Melissa considered. It would probably be loud, and weird, and she wouldn’t be able to think about anything. “Sure,” she said. “Bring them.”

Dana was sitting on the bench when she got back. “Should I wait with you?” she asked.

“Won’t…won’t they be wondering about you?” Melissa asked.

“I told Mulder where I was going,” Dana said. “And aside from that, I don’t care.”

“You can wait if you want,” Melissa said. “But don’t try to make me talk about anything, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t,” Dana said. “I hate it when you try to do that to me.” Something about her matter-of-fact tone made Melissa laugh. And that was a mistake, because something about starting to laugh made her start to cry, on this bus stop bench, on Thanksgiving night, near what she’d thought was home.

“Missy,” Dana said. She put her arms around her, gently, and Melissa clung to her. “Missy, I’m so, so sorry…I wish there was something I could do…”

“I still don’t want to talk about it,” Melissa said, through her tears.

“That’s okay,” Dana said. “You don’t have to…you can just cry, if you want…”

“I don’t want,” Melissa said. Not here, not in the bus stop. The guy in the ticket booth was looking at them.

“Okay,” Dana said. “But it’s all right if you can’t help it.” Her voice was careful, which made Melissa feel worse. She was used to Dana letting her know that she didn’t have any patience for her bullshit, not to her treating her like she was going to break.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes with her hand; Dana handed her a tissue from her purse. “Let’s just talk about something else until the bus comes,” she said.

“That sounds good, Missy,” Dana said. “Whatever you want to talk about.”

“No,” Melissa said, because that was another thing that made her feel like Dana was babying her. “You pick. Tell me about your classes or something.”

“I already told you about them,” Dana said. “Before dinner. And you said I was taking away your appetite.”

That felt like a million years ago, but Melissa remembered it, vaguely. “Well, something else then,” Melissa said. “What else have you been doing?”

“I don’t know,” Dana said. “Mostly classes, honestly. Oh, Mulder made me go see that movie _Trog_. With Joan Crawford and the troglodyte. It was really bad. Do you want to hear about it?”

“Sure,” Melissa said. “Sure, tell me about that.” She listened, but not really.

When the bus pulled in, Dana hugged her again. “We’ll be back in New York by tomorrow night,” she said. “Should I call you?”

“If you want,” Melissa said.

“It really will be okay, Missy,” Dana said, softly.

She hadn’t wanted to talk about it, but now, with only a few minutes left, she almost did. “How?” she asked, as if Dana knew. Maybe she did know something.

“Because you’re…well, you’re you,” Dana said. “You always find a way. And because I love you, okay? And a lot of other people do too.”

She didn’t know what to say; she didn’t know if that helped. So she just hugged Dana back, said goodbye, and got on the bus. She tried to sleep on the way back to the city, but it wasn’t easy: the bus wasn’t comfortable, and neither were her thoughts. She told herself that she’d been right, to tell her parents the truth about herself, and that they’d been wrong, to reject it. That your true self was the most precious thing you could share, and that anyone who wasn’t grateful for it wasn’t worth your time. She really did believe all of that. But it was still hard to sleep on the bus.

“Okay, spill,” Melissa said. “You’ve been acting weird.”

“I have not,” Dana said. She started rearranging things on her kitchen counter, a sure sign that she was hiding something.

“Yes, you have,” Melissa said. “Ever since Monica and I told you we were together. What’s going on with that?”

“Nothing,” Dana said. “I’m really happy for you two.”

“Then why are you acting weird?” Melissa asked. “Do you not approve of us?” She didn’t think that was it, since it didn’t make any sense. If it had been someone else in her family…But Dana had supported her with Andrea, and then with Sheila, and Monica was her best friend, after all. So Melissa didn’t think she’d have anything against it.

“Of course I do,” Dana said. “You have so much in common. You’re perfect together.” She was quiet for a minute, and Melissa made herself wait it out. “Sorry. I guess I am being a little weird. It’s just…will we still hang out like before? The three of us?”

“Of course,” Melissa said. “We were hanging out when we told you, weren’t we? Please don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“That makes it sound ugly,” Dana said. “Because I really am happy. I knew you both first, that’s all. I don’t want things to change.”

“They won’t,” Melissa said. “Or maybe they will some. But in a good way. And yeah, you knew me first because you’re my sister. I’m not going to ditch you now that I’m with Monica. And I’m sure she’s not going to ditch you either. We both need someone practical to balance us.”

Dana looked happier now. “I’m glad, Missy. Sorry if I was being a jerk.”

“I wouldn’t say a jerk,” Melissa said. “Silly, maybe. I knew you and Mulder before you knew each other, after all. And I didn’t start freaking out when you got together. And you haven’t ditched me yet, even if you’re the most in-love couple in the tristate area.”

“Now you’re the one who’s being silly,” Dana said. But Melissa noticed she didn’t deny the accusation. “Tell me more about how it happened,” she said. “With you and Monica.” So Melissa did.

It wasn’t a wedding in the official, legal sense, but Dana was taking her dual matron of honor duties seriously enough to make up for that. It made Melissa laugh, but it was probably a good thing, in the end. Neither she nor Monica was that detail-oriented, and you kind of needed to have some attention to detail when you were planning an event.

“Did you think about what you want to wear yet?” Dana asked her. “I can shop with you, if you want.”

“Are you sure?” Melissa asked. “You’re already doing too much, Dana. And you’re so busy with work…”

“I can make time,” Dana said. “I want to, for this. And I promise I won’t try to impose my taste on you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I’m worried about anything?” Melissa asked.

“Well, I can’t think why else you’re pretending to be concerned about my schedule,” Dana said. “You never care about how busy I am when you decide we’re having a spontaneous outing. Or when you call me at night for an hour-long conversation about some new age book you know I haven’t read.” She was smiling, though. “So what is it?”

“Well, I have been thinking about what I want to wear,” Melissa said. “At first, I thought, you know, I don’t have to go all out. Maybe a skirt and a nice top. And I thought maybe something with blues and greens…” Dana was nodding; Melissa could see her mentally taking notes. “But then…I don’t know. I know we’re not going very traditional. In a lot of ways. But I want the whole white dress thing. Is that really silly?”

“No!” Dana said. “No, Missy, it’s not silly at all! You should do it, if that’s what you want.”

Melissa smiled. “Okay. I still don’t want to spend a ton, though.”

“You don’t have to,” Dana said. “We can find something cheap. And we can find one that…that’s traditional and not at the same time.”

“That’s a lot to ask of a dress,” Melissa said. But Dana looked excited by the challenge, and it was catching. “But I bet we can. Between the two of us.”

“Of course we can,” Dana said.

The only problem with this plan was that it involved the two of them shopping together, which had never been easy. It had always led to arguments, from the days when they were children being taken to look for school shoes. After an afternoon of going to stores, they were both irritated, and they hadn’t found any dress Melissa remotely liked. Just a lot of headaches.

Once they were back at her apartment, Melissa sat down on the couch with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” said Dana. “I did try.”

“It’s not your fault,” Melissa said. “Stop apologizing.”

“I just want this to be a good day for you,” Dana said. “A wedding should be so special.”

“Mine’s not going to be like yours was,” Melissa said. “All right? We’re not going to be the perfect magazine cover family.”

“That’s not fair,” Dana said. “Mulder and I aren’t…we’re not that.” Melissa knew Dana was right, but somehow that made her even more annoyed, because now she’d landed herself in the wrong. “And I never said your wedding had to be like mine. We’re not the same person, and I know that. I only want it to be a happy day.”

“Well, then don’t make such a big thing out of all this,” Melissa said. “What does a dress matter?”

“You were the one who said you wanted one,” Dana said. “And some of those dresses were nice. I don’t know why—”

“I told you. They weren’t right for me,” Melissa said. She didn’t really know why herself, though, which was irritating on its own. “Maybe I’m just not meant for a white dress.”

“Why would you say that?” Dana asked. “I feel like you’re trying to deflect. Like you don’t want to admit this means something to you.”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” Melissa said. “Do not do it.”

“You do it to me all the time,” Dana said. “And I just think you should—” She stopped. “I’m sorry. I’m getting ridiculous about this. I just want to help you.”

“It’s okay,” Melissa said. “I’m getting ridiculous too. I just wanted to find a dress I loved.”

“And you will,” Dana said. “We can go again next weekend.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? With us?”

A pause. “Maybe not.”

Melissa sighed and slumped against the table. “Where do I go from here?”

Dana shrugged, looking helpless, which was how Melissa felt. They sat there at the table, staring into space, and they probably would have sat there for a lot longer if Starchild hadn’t opened her bedroom door and breezed into the room.

“Hey,” she said. “You two look depressed out of your minds.”

“Thanks,” Melissa said. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”

“What’s eating you?” Starchild asked. “Wedding planning stuff?” When Melissa nodded, she took a seat between them. “You know, this is one of the many reasons I don’t believe in weddings. You forget about all the good stuff, like sex and companionship, and start worrying about all the bad stuff.”

“We know, Starchild,” Melissa said. “But this is important to Monica and me, okay? It’s important to us that we stand up and say something. That we show our commitment in whatever way we can.” It was easy for Starchild to say, Melissa thought, when she could get married tomorrow if she wanted to. Not that she blamed Starchild, because she was consistent in her beliefs if nothing else, and Melissa knew she would have said the same thing to any couple. But when you couldn’t get a piece of paper saying you were actually married, the ceremony took on a different dimension of importance. Maybe that was why she was so annoyed about the dress. Maybe Dana was right. Damn, she hated it when that happened.

“Sorry,” Starchild said. “I know it’s what you want. It’s not what I’d want, but I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it or anything. Some people like it, they say.” The tone of her voice suggested that the veracity of this _they_ was dubious, and this mythical _some people_ possibly nonexistent. “What’s the problem, anyway?”

“My dress,” Melissa said. “We’ve been looking all afternoon and we haven’t found anything good.”

“Oh,” Starchild said. “What kind of thing do you want?”

Melissa felt a little weird about saying it to Starchild; if that was how she felt about weddings, how was she going to feel about their typical trappings? About the perfect white wedding dress, the biggest cliché there was, something that meant you were a virgin going from your father’s home to your husband’s, nothing that Melissa was doing or even subscribed to herself? But to hell with it. She wanted one. If Dana was right, she was right, and Melissa wasn’t going to keep deflecting. “Something white,” she said. “Not…not too poofy. But pretty. Classic. Floor-length.”

“Short sleeves or long?” Starchild asked.

“Short, I think,” Melissa said, picturing it. “Not too low-cut.”

“Maybe a scoop neck?” Starchild said.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “That would be good—wait, why are you asking?”

“Well, I’m going to make it for you,” Starchild said. “So I need to know what you want it to be like.”

“You’re going to make it for me?” Melissa asked. That she had not expected. She wouldn’t have thought Starchild would want to lend her considerable talents as a seamstress to an event she didn’t even believe in.

“Sure,” Starchild said. “You should have the dress you want, for your day. And there’s never anything in stores that’s like you pictured it. And even if there is, why should you spend the money?”

“I’ll pay you,” Melissa said. “If you’re serious about this, I’ll definitely pay you.”

“No, you won’t,” Starchild said, looking at her as if that was the most ridiculous idea in the world. More ridiculous than having a wedding in the first place. “You’re my best friend. This is my present to you. Practice some gratitude and stop making shit transactional.”

So Melissa just hugged her. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you, Starchild.”

Even Dana, who’d never seen eye-to-eye with Starchild on anything, looked impressed. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “It’s really nice of you.”

“I’m going to make you look amazing,” Starchild promised. “I’ll measure you, and I’ll sketch some ideas for you to look at. And we can go buy fabric. Only can it wait a couple of hours? Because Byers is in my room now, and actually I only came out here to get whipped cream.”

“Do I want to know?” Melissa asked.

“You never do,” Starchild said.

Dana already looked like she wished she were somewhere else, but Melissa couldn’t feel too bothered, not anymore. She was going to have a dress. She imagined wearing it, and standing there with Monica, and she couldn’t feel bothered at all.

Melissa was spending the weekend with Dana and Emily; Mulder had gone to a conference, and Monica was visiting to help out her mom, who’d broken her ankle. Since she and Dana didn’t get to spend as much time as sisters, just the two of them, as they once had, it was a nice occasion. When Emily was in bed, they settled onto the living room couch together, glasses of wine in hand, for a long talk.

It was wide-ranging, as their talks often were: work came into it, things they’d been reading, movies they wanted to make the time to see. “And we should all get together for dinner sometime soon,” Dana said. “Once Monica and Mulder are back.” She sighed. “I miss him.”

“That’s a good thing,” Melissa said. “Shows your marriage hasn’t gotten stale.” She was teasing, of course; you only had to spend about five minutes around the two of them to know that their marriage was nowhere close to stale.

“I should say not,” Dana said. “I know it’s only five days, but I just get lonely.”

“Nice of you to say,” Melissa said, “when I’m right here.”

Dana raised an eyebrow at her. “I can’t exactly have sex with you.”

“Ew. No, you can’t,” Melissa agreed. “I didn’t know that was what you meant by lonely.   
You sounded so innocent.” Dana didn’t talk about sex that often—Melissa wondered if the wine accounted for it now. She hand’t thought they’d had that much, but when she looked at the bottle she saw it was almost empty.

“I’m not innocent,” Dana said. “You just think that, because of being my older sister. I’ve had plenty of sex.”

“Of course you have,” Melissa said.

“I mean, just with Mulder,” Dana added. “So I guess you could say I haven’t been that adventurous. But you know, I’ve never felt I was missing anything. I really can’t imagine it feeling that good with anyone else.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Melissa said. “You have something special with him.”

“Exactly,” Dana said. “I never even really wanted it with anyone before him.” She took another sip of her wine and giggled suddenly. “Plus he’s amazing with his mouth.”

“Dana!” It wasn’t that that it bothered her. It was just that she didn’t expect it.

“What?” Dana asked. “You don’t like oral?”

She looked sincerely concerned, and Melissa had to laugh. “Of course I do,” she said. “Who doesn’t, right?”

“Right,” Dana said. “Sometimes I think I like it better than anything else. The first time Mulder did that…I didn’t know _what_ was happening to me.” She looked at Melissa thoughtfully. “Melissa, who was your first?” And then, when Melissa didn’t answer right away, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Or if it wasn’t good, or something. But I’m sorry if it wasn’t good.”

“It’s okay, Dana,” Melissa said. “It’s just kind of a complicated question, for me.”

Dana squeezed her hand. “Tell me about it if you want to. But not if you don’t.”

“I was with a guy one time,” Melissa said. “Right after I dropped out of school. Kind of a rebellion thing. I barely knew him. The less said about it the better, really. He didn’t hurt me,” she added quickly, because Dana was looking concerned. “It just wasn’t right. I was young and dumb.”

“We all were,” Dana said, “once.”

“Guess so,” Melissa said. “Anyway, I don’t know if I should even count that. I don’t really think of it that way.”

“Then don’t count it,” Dana said. “It’s all a social construct anyway. There’s no anatomical aspect to it whatsoever.” She sounded so serious that Melissa had to laugh again, and to hug her quickly, before she went on.

She’d never really thought she’d tell Dana about this. Almost no one knew—Melissa and Dee themselves, of course, and Starchild because she’d ferreted it out, and Melissa had told Monica, but even then she’d kept some parts vague and oblique. Maybe Dee had told someone, but somehow Melissa didn’t think so. She wanted to talk about it now, though; it was no shameful story, no secret she had to hide. “Do you remember Dee?” she asked. “She was my best friend, when I first left school.” She didn’t know when she’d last used that phrase to describe Dee, but that was the truth of it.

“Of course I remember her,” Dana said. “She was the one who was all over Mulder. Why?” And in the pause before Melissa spoke again, “No. The two of you…?” She didn’t sound upset, which Melissa had still half-worried about, just surprised. Her voice was a little loud in the still room.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “It was that time she came back to visit. It just happened…I don’t think either of us was expecting it. I wasn’t, anyway. I think…I’d probably felt that way about her all along, but I’d never realized. It was kind of amazing.” She used to wish that it hadn’t felt so amazing, but now she was glad it had given her something. “And then she left the next morning.”

“Oh, Missy,” Dana said.

“Broke my heart for a while,” Melissa said, and her voice was light, but she’d never said it like that.

Dana didn’t say anything. She just scooted closer to Melissa on the couch and put her arms around her. Melissa leaned her head against her sister’s, and they sat like that for a minute or two.

“Don’t think I’m still messed up or anything,” Melissa said eventually. “It hurt like hell, but that’s life.”

“Of course you’re not,” Dana said. “You’re the toughest person I know.” That serious note in her voice again, and Melissa was glad to hear it.

“Since we’ll be in the house then,” Dana said, “Mulder and I thought we’d have people over for Christmas this year. How does that sound?”

“It sounds fine,” Melissa said. She was hunting for her favorite mug and wasn’t fully paying attention. “Do you want me and Monica to bring something?”

“Sure, if you like,” Dana said. “Everything the two of you make is amazing.”

“Ooh, we could do molasses cookies,” Monica said. “I always like having those around Christmas. And maybe another kind too.”

“You spoil us,” Dana said.

Monica laughed. “We’re happy to do it.”

When Monica was busy in the kitchen, though, and Melissa had found the mug and taken a seat next to Dana, Dana turned to her again. “The question is…I wanted to know what you think…about inviting Mom and Dad.”

Not that she blamed Dana for it, but this would never stop being fraught. “I’m perfectly happy to be there with them,” Melissa said. “They’re the ones who don’t want to be there with me.”

“I’ll tell them they have to be nice to you,” Dana said. “Of course I’ll do that.”

“Dana, they haven’t spoken to me in years. They’re not suddenly going to be nice to me, no matter what you tell them.”

“Civil, then,” Dana said. “At least civil.”

“You can try,” Melissa said. “But I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

“I just wanted to know if you minded me asking them,” Dana says. “And if they say they can’t be civil, I’ll tell them you’re invited and they’re not.”

It should have made her happy, to know that Dana was in her corner, and it did, almost all of the time. But Melissa didn’t want the rupture between her and her parents to lead to a rupture between them and Dana, even though she couldn’t have said why. There had been times in the past when Dana had hinted that she wanted to say something to them, confront them, and Melissa had always cut her off, even though she’d once been the queen of big, loud, angry parental confrontations. Maybe she didn’t want Dana stepping into that role, she thought wryly. Maybe she wanted there to be a Melissa-shaped space in the family that they’d have to work around, even if they never acknowledged it or confronted it. Or maybe she didn’t want what had happened between them to ruin things for anyone else. Even though she knew it wouldn’t be her fault if that happened—it was her parents’ fault, their own choice—she didn’t want it.

“You shouldn’t do that,” she said. “They’ll want to see you. Especially with the baby coming.”

“Well, they can see me another day, then,” Dana said. “I’m not going to tell them they can never see me. Just not for Christmas, if they aren’t going to be good about your being there too.”

And the thing was, that would probably work, Melissa thought. Her parents would probably be upset, even angry, but they’d see Dana some other day. They wouldn’t stop speaking to her as if she’d done something evil. They’d let her keep occupying the Good Daughter space, with her college degree and her impressive job and her house and her kids and her decidedly male husband. Melissa tried not to be mad at Dana for having those things, because they weren’t things she even wanted herself. But they were things that made it easier to move around in the world. That mattered to her more than it once had, and sometimes that made her angry too.

“Look,” she said. “I don’t need you to be a hero for me, okay? Things are the way they are.”

“I’m not trying to be a hero, Missy,” Dana said. “I want you there. That matters to me.”

She couldn’t really stay upset when Dana said mushy stuff like that. “I want to be there too,” she said. “You know that. I want to see all of you and eat Christmas cookies and spoil Emily. I just don’t want it to be…” She wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

“I’m not going to start a fight just to fight,” Dana said. “If that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just going to tell them that you’re going to be there. And that’s that. And then they can make their own choice.” Her voice was calm, but Melissa knew she wasn’t someone you wanted to mess with. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “That’s okay. I don’t think it’s going to work, but it’s okay.”

“Well, we’ll have a good time without them, then,” Dana said. “We’ll eat cookies and have a good time. And I’ll show you the whole house.”

“I still can’t believe you guys are leaving the city,” Melissa said. “It’ll be weird not seeing you all the time.”

“You’ll still see us,” Dana said. “It’s not that far. And Emily will want to spend time with her favorite aunts.”

“Are you talking about me?” Monica asked, coming back into the room. Of course, they were Emily’s only aunts, but that didn’t stop them from embracing the title of favorites. “Is there anything special we can get her for Christmas?”

“She’s still really into dolls,” Dana said. “But honestly, whatever you choose will be great. You two already do so much for her.”

And the three of them talked about Emily then, and the holidays, and plans. Melissa didn’t think she’d be seeing her parents, but she’d reached a point where that didn’t much bother her. She’d be seeing these people she loved. That was enough.

She’d gotten the letter in the mail three days ago, and Melissa still didn’t know what to do.

She hadn’t recognized the handwriting on the envelope, but then they’d never written much, living practically in each other’s pockets. She hadn’t recognized the return address, the first two initials and the changed last name. But then she’d opened it. _Dear Melissa, I’m sure you remember…_ Like a punch. The words seemed like the height of presumptuousness. It had been almost thirty years, and she was expected to remember everything? But it was true. She hadn’t recognized, but she did remember. She couldn’t have forgotten.

If the rest of the letter had made her that angry, it would have been easy to know what to do: get rid of it, preferably using some method that involved flame, and then never think about it again. Stop remembering. But it hadn’t made her angry. It had made her…she didn’t know what. And so she held onto it.

She didn’t tell Monica, even though she knew that Monica would listen. She couldn’t pinpoint why. She knew Monica wouldn’t be jealous, and she certainly wouldn’t have had any reason to be. Any romantic feelings Melissa had were well in the past—she couldn’t quite name the feelings the letter conjured up, yet, but she knew they weren’t of that kind. It just felt like a strange thing to talk about with Monica. At least right now.

She put the letter in her bag before she went out. She knew that was a weird thing to do. It wasn’t like it wasn’t safe in the house, like it would suddenly go missing. It wasn’t like she planned to sit and reread it on the subway. (Or maybe she would; she’d reread it already a couple of times in the days since she got it, scouring it for clues, as if it held some secrets of the universe, as if it were a new method of fortune telling.) She just put it there.

She was meeting Dana for lunch. Dana was already at the restaurant when she got there, and at first they talked about ordinary things. As they ate, though, she could see Dana was watching her narrowly. They’d never missed much about each other, and that had only gotten stronger with the years.

She knew Dana wouldn’t pry, though—she might ask, but she wouldn’t push. Melissa wouldn’t have to tell her about the letter, just like she hadn’t told anyone else. But then Dana asked, softly, “Is everything okay, Missy?” Melissa remembered keeping the beginning of this story from her, those thirty years back. She remembered hiding. She didn’t want to do any of that now, not with her sister. She didn’t want to give other people’s opinions that kind of power.

“I got a letter the other day,” she said. “It was from Dee. Remember Dee?”

Dana’s eyes were wide. “Of course I do. But…really? Was this the first time you’ve heard from her since…?”

“The first time,” Melissa confirmed. “I didn’t expect it.”

“What did she say?” Dana asked.

“She said she’s sorry,” Melissa said. “She said she was scared about what happened between us and that was why she left, and now she’s sorry.”

“Wow,” Dana said. “Do you believe her?”

She hadn’t asked herself that question. “Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know why she’d write if she didn’t mean it. No one was forcing her.”

“Did she say why she wrote?” Dana asked.

“She just got divorced,” Melissa said. “And it made her reflect on the past.”

“Sure,” Dana said. Melissa could tell she was suspicious, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she needed that.

It still made her want to be contrary, though. “I think she’s sincere,” she said. “She wasn’t asking me for anything.”

“Okay,” Dana said. “I’m more concerned about you than about her, though. How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Melissa said. “I guess I’m a little glad. But I’m kind of upset, too.”

“That makes sense,” Dana said. They were both quiet for a minute. “Does it…does it feel like closure?”

Melissa wasn’t sure about that either, but she tried to give it some thought. “I don’t know if it does now,” she says. “It might, though. After I sit with it for a while.”

“That’s good,” Dana said. “Do you think you’ll…do you want to write back to her or anything?”

That had been the big question, one she’d gone back and forth on. She’d told herself she definitely shouldn’t, at the same time as a part of her had felt compelled to. It was probably what had driven her most crazy. But here at lunch with Dana, she had her answer, suddenly. “No,” she said. “I don’t want to open things up like that. I think I just needed to talk to somebody.” She smiled at her sister.

“Any time, Missy,” Dana said, and then they went on with their lunch.


End file.
